


Low Charge

by bellmandi86



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Amnesia, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Body Horror, Empress Feferi Peixes, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Helmsman AU, Helmstrolls, M/M, Mental Disintegration, Multi, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Plot Twist, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 06:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20059768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellmandi86/pseuds/bellmandi86
Summary: ♒︎️ Under the new Empress's reign, your title as Orphaner has been stripped down to Helmsman. The Prince of Hope slips away, in every sense of the word, as he's drained for ship power. Is there any hope left? Was there any to begin with?





	Low Charge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VIVItheHeiwa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VIVItheHeiwa/gifts).

You never thought you’d see the day where Feferi would rise to power, but she actually managed to overthrow the Condesce. No longer is she Heiress: she now is the Empress over your race. A lot of things were changed immediately. The caste system was dismantled, lowbloods were compensated for generations of oppression; she was dead set to pave the road to a new era. You had always fantasized about the day you could rule by her side, but not like this. You were initially sent to the culling block for crimes against Alternia, but you were spared when a certain Goldblood brought up a new job for you. 

You’ve been grafted to the Empire’s ship for…. Who knows how long it’s been? You may have been spared from death, but you might as well be in hell. The tendrils of the ship suspend you from the floor. Your legs are bound beneath you and your arms above you. It’s been slowly, but surely digging into your skin and sapping your energy. Each tip is like a burning needle, melding to you. Recently, the connections have advanced further on your body, trailing down your horns and connecting to your skull. This affects most of everything for you: your ability to speak, to remember, and if you weren’t so reliant on your glasses, you’d say your vision was fading, but who’s to say for sure. Regardless of how much you’re deteriorating, the crew is able to keep your independent functions to their required minimum. 

“Ampora, your output hath dropped by twenty perthent.” Sollux prods your head with a staff. You’re able to keep a brief focus on him. “What’th the deal?” 

You don’t know how to feel about him being your caretaker. Did he speak out for you to save you or to torture you? Regardless, he’s your moirail now and he is the only one you have to depend on. Not like anyone else is going to…

“Hey! Fishbreath!” He taps the base of your horn this time. 

“Sorry,” You groan. “Tired.” 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me! Eridan, it’th only bee—”

“Sollux!” You both look up as the Empress makes her way down the corridor. “I trout I sent you to sea why our helmsman was underpierforming. What’s the fishue?” 

“I’m thorry, F.F., he’th not very coherent. I can’t figure out what hith issue ith.” 

“I know you made your best effort, sweetheart,” Her hand rests tenderly on his shoulder. “but you don’t know how terribubble of a moireel he is. Stand aside.” He complies as she steps closer to you, She presents a sweet façade, holding her 2x3dent behind her back. She smiles widely at you, but her eyes promise a quick death. “Eridan?” 

“I can’t…” You breathe. “You’re drainin’ me…”

“Whale… that’s kinda the point, Eridan.” She seats herself at the base of your binding. _ Great, another fuckin’ lecture. _ “Sea, I conchestly trout you could handle this. You were an Orphaner, you mastered White Magic _ and _ you learned to hone GrimDark abilities…” She glares at you. “Which you weren’t _ allowed _ to.” 

“You… you _ made _ me.”

“Anywave, I expect better perfoamance from you. You shoald be able to power this ship with no trobubble.” 

“I can’t—” She stands, the point of her 2x3dent in your face. 

“I’ve haddock with your excuses, Eridan. I have been for sweeps.” She scowls, he eyes burning into yours with rage. You swallow. “Either helm the ship or I cull you like I shoald have a long time ago.” You’re growing so tired. You are in so much pain. She’s the Witch of Life, why can’t she just heal you? No… why _ won’t _ she? “Um, excuse me. I bereef the proper response is ‘ _ Yes, your majesty _ .’ … _ Say it. _”

“...Yes, your majesty.” 

“Very good!” She smiles, her bubbly demeanor quickly returning. She hops off of your post and saunters away. “And don’t forget, this is your last chance! So make it count and make your Empress proud!” 

“Yes… your majesty.”

“He’s not as stubborn as I thought!” She looks to the Goldblood. “Sea? You just have to be more assertive! Now, my little barnacle,” She pulls him closer with his staff. “please get him ready for travel, we are very behind schedule. And _ afterwards… _ meet me in my throne block for your reward.” She presses a kiss to his cheek and saunters down the hall, giggling. She is fucking terrifying. Sollux relaxes and sighs, looking over at you. 

“Dude, I don’t know why you’re cauthing her tho much grief. You’re only making it worth for yourthelf.” 

“I’m not… tryin’ to.”

“Okay, but you _ are. _” You sigh. “Ampora, I know you’ve thtaved off worth. Thith should be nothing for you.” You try to shake your head, but you can’t anymore. “I can’t keep boothting you like thith. She’ll catch on.” He walks behind you. “Whatever you need to do to get your powerth going, I thuggetht you figure it out quick.” 

“I don’t…”

“Come on, E.D., ithn’t there thomething or thomeone you think about to help you channel thith power or whatever?” 

Was there? You feel like there _ used to _ be, but their face is such a distance memory. You were fighting for someone once. It’s the only reason you’re still here, hanging by the frayed thread that is her mercy. You wish you could remember his face… Was it a ‘he’? The Goldblood buzzes close to your ear. 

“Do you thtill remember him?” Who is he talking about? Are you supposed to remember him? That can’t be right, but you don’t know who else it would be. Maybe the knowledge of the angels can give you the power to recall… 

He sighs and pulls away. Why does he sound upset? What did you do wrong? 

“Sorry.” 

“It’th fine.” He sounds so crestfallen. “I jutht never thought I’d thee the day…”

His hands rub along your back. It’s grown very sore from him helping. You used to be able to keep up your power for a long time, but lately you’ve grown dependant on your keeper to jumpstart you into your power. Your skin has grown very tender due to this; his hands feel like sandpaper on your back… and he’s barely doing anything. 

“You honethtly can’t thart on your own anymore?” 

“... No.”

“I know I mutht be a real shitty moirail in your eyeth, but I’ve been forbidden from taking proper care of you. You know I’m doing thith becauth I care, right?” You can’t be sure anymore, but that doesn’t upset you one way or another. “Let me help.” His hand presses onto your back. You grit your teeth and shiver at the jolt of psionic energy coursing through you. It doesn’t make you feel better, but the jolt wakes you up enough to put your efforts forward into the ship. “There, now jutht keep it up until we get to where we need to be.” He wipes a tear from your cheek. Were you crying? “It’th only a few lightyearth away.” 

_ You can’t _. The more you keep using these energies, the more it’s making your thinkpan corrode. Your White Magics are starting to stain the streak in your hair white. The more you use it, the more you begin to lose yourself. That only gets amplified from the amount of power you’re putting into the ship. Your vision is swallowed by the overwhelming bright light of your magic. Your ears are ringing with the cacophony of whispers, murmuring and hissing in your head. So much information at once, too much to focus on one thing at a time. Even though this is all you can see and hear, you feel your restraints sinking deeper into your skin, sucking more out of you, as if starved for your power. You feel like there’s nothing left. This is your life now. You’re just a part of the ship. Eridan Ampora, as you know him, ceases to exist in this moment. And honestly, you don’t seem to mind or care. You probably deserve this punishment, whatever it is that you did to receive it. You let the warmth of the white light pull you into his embrace, your mouth idly moving to their prayers. 

Hours later, you snap back to clarity from a loud bang as the ship jolts harshly. The lights in your corridor are flashing red with crew members rushing back and forth in panic, none of which are coming to your aid. Through all of the screaming and discourse, you’re able to pick up on enough to know what’s going on: A raid. Which, of course, _ must _ be incorrect. Who would be fool enough to overthrow the ship of The Crown? The ship rumbles once more from another hit. The power goes out briefly before the lights go red. Your lift your head to observe the increasing mayhem in the corridor. Several lowbloods and midbloods scrambling for weapons, scrambling for communicators, or simply scrambling for their lives. The wall is sprayed rust and olive blood, punctuated with the harsh thuds of bodies hitting the floor. Maybe, if you’re lucky, they’ll claim your life, too. One troll almost makes their way to you, but they’re caught in the back of the head with a rogue sickle. As they fall, you’re left looking at the weapon’s owner. His built rugged demeanor shows a troll who’s not only seen battle, but has most likely prepared for this specific battle his entire life. Not many trolls are equipped with sickles, the honor of this tool mostly belonging to Threshecutioners. 

“Ground Level is secured,” A growling voice reports, pressing two fingers to an earpiece. “Team Gamma, reconvene on the Main Level and prepare for the coup.” He twirls a second sickle in his hand, looking down on his recent cull. “With any luck, this shouldn’t take long. So don’t fucking embarrass me with rookie mistakes, or I’ll have your asses, got it?”

His nubby horns are barely visible in his thick, tousled hair. His face is concealed with a respirator. His foot holds down his victim’s skull as he cleaves his sickle out of them. The swiftness of his retrieval sends a spray of blood flying, some of it splattering onto your face. Then finally, his burning red eyes meet with yours. His expression softens and he immediately drops both sickles. 

“Eridan?” _ Does he know you? _“Fucking shit, what did they do to you?” His hands grasps at the tendrils in an attempt to break you free, but this only makes you scream in pain. “How long have you been here? We thought you were dead...” He gently tilts your head up to look at him. For someone you don’t know, this guy sure seems to care a lot about you. You aren’t sure why, though. 

“Please… Just kill me.” 

“Oh, _ hell _ no. _ That _ ** _fucking _ ** ** _BITCH_ **.” He swears loudly, throwing one of his sickles into a nearby pipe. Steam is now quickly filling the block. “Maryam! Change of fucking plans! Fuck the coup, this just became a rescue mission.” He grabs his other sickle and climbs onto your base, hacking away at the tendrils. “Have Team Gamma and Epsilon search the ship for other prisoners and get the Alpha Crew to blow open the portside…” 

“I’m afraid you won’t be doing anyfin of the shoret, Captain.” 

That Goldblood from earlier rushes into the block, the Empress in tow. 

“And Maryam? I need backup.” He steps down from your post to confront her. “Well, look who decided to _ grace me with her presence _.”

“What are you hoping to accompfish here, Crabcatch?” 

“I told you not to call me that.” He points his sickle her way. “It wasn’t cute when we were young and it’s even more annoying now.” 

“I tank you’ll find I can do waterever I like, thank you.” She points her 2x3dent at him. “I’m the Empress now. I’m trying to undo the work of my Ancestor and your little ragtag group of chums are getting in my way.”

“So, what? You think picking and choosing who you enslave makes you better than the last ruler who just imprisoned everybody? Because, news flash:” He swipes at her weapon, a sharp _ clang _ piercing the room. “You’re just as bad as she was.” 

“You watch your mouth in her prethenthe, K.K.!” Her servant responds. 

“Sollux, shut the fuck up!” He snaps. “You have no place to talk. You’re nothing more than a decorated sex slave and you know it!” 

The Goldblood moves to remove his glasses, his psionics sparking, but this is dismissed but your ruler. 

“Your little uprising isn’t going to work, I promise.” 

“Oh, believe me.” He shakes his head, looking passed her. “This isn’t a coup.” 

Another troll elegantly slides out from under the Empress’s feet, stopping next to your post. Another figure behind a mask, but of feminite nature. 

“I apologize for taking so long,” She withdraws a chainsaw. “What’s the plan?” He gestures to you. Her cold, Jade eyes study you through furrowed brows. “You’re kidding me.” 

“Are you questioning my orders?”

She shakes her head and being to saw into the helm. The more connections she cuts, the sharper the burning becomes from the connections you still have. All the while, your rescuer is staving off the Empress and her loyal goon on his own. He’s quick to subdue the Goldblood with a swift kick in the chest, but there’s quick lashing and swiping between the two remaining. It’s difficult to keep up with the strife, especially with the excruciating pain the Jadeblood above you is giving you. You even think she’s smiling at your agony. Maybe they’re not here to rescue you… Maybe, instead, they’re taking you as their _ own _ battery? Do you even have the energy to oppose? 

Before you’re able to think much further on your fate, another explosion shakes the ship, the block filling with more smoke and the frigid, unforgiving cold of space trying to pull you out. Another ship waits just outside the opening it tore open for the opposing group. The Jadeblood slaps a mask on your face before your vision starts to fade. With the Empress temporarily subdued, your to masquerading kidnappers begin their escape. 

“Don’t tank you’ve won, crab snatch.” The Empress gets up. “I’ll be getting my battery back.” 

“Yeah?” Your first rescuer roughly throws you over his shoulder, grabbing for a rope just outside of the ship. “Well, it’s too damn bad I don’t have a battery: I have a matesprit.” 

“I mean it!” She calls out to him, pointing at him menacingly. “From this day on, you and your crew are now enemies to my empire!” 

“You can eat my nook clean, Peixes,” He yells back, getting pulled up. “I won’t stop until I overthrow your bubbly ass and get society to be fucking normal for once, you hypocritical fishwitch!” 

His crew quickly pulls you all on board, commands being shouted back and forth as you phase back out of consciousness. 

You aren’t sure how long you were out for, but now you’re lying on a cold table under very bright lights. 

“We shouldn’t cause him too much stress,” one voice says. “He’s probably lost a lot of energy from the helm.”

“Yeah? I figured as much.” Hey, it’s that guy with the sickles again. “Listen, I get you don’t want me getting distracted with him because you don’t like him or whatever, but do you honestly think I can’t take him in this condition?”

“I’ll have you know I have plenty of reasons to not trust him,” she chides. “And who knows how quick he’ll be to recover. He _ is _ a seadweller, after all.” 

“No shit.” He reaches down, gently pulling you into his hold. “I’ll take it from here.” He begins to walk. “I’ll be in my quarters. I am _ not _ to be distrubed.” 

You look down at your hands: you can see them again. Unfortunately, you’re covered in bandages, some parts of the helm still stuck to you. You aren’t sure how long they made you their little project for. You know you aren’t worth their efforts. You try to get a look at him as you’re guided away from those blaring lights, but he still has that mask on. You’re trying so hard to remember him, but… 

You’re finally alone. He lies you down on a soft platform in a very large respiteblock, and he finally removes his mask. 

“How are you feeling?”

Such a rugged look for someone so kind-hearted. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in wipes, dirtied with the soil of war. His will has grown tired, and his eye bags show it. Does he sleep well, if at all? Yet he wastes his energy on you. You’re not worth the melancholy he’s spending on you. 

“Okay…” You keep your focus on him as you slowly open and close your hands. 

“That’s good.” He sits down besides you, giving you a light embrace. You do not reciprocate. “I missed you.” 

“Howw did you find me?” 

“It wasn’t all that difficult,” He shrugs. “Everyone said they last saw you going to Feferi, so if she didn’t have you, she knew where you were…” He gets up. “Hold on, I have something for you.” He kneels down and pulls a small box out from underneath your platform. “Here, these are yours.” He sets the gift in your lap. You struggle to open it, but you get the job done. 

“Wwhat… wwhat is this?” 

“This is all your stuff.” He takes each item out as he describes it to you. “I have some of your clothes, a few of your books… Oh, and you might want these.” He slips a pair of glasses onto your face. 

You can _ finally _ see! You take this opportunity to get a good look at your surroundings. So neat and tidy, not a scroll or book out of place. The room is covered with this troll’s life story. An extensive collection of sickles, each one with a named plaque. A few maps are laid out on a table, markers and tools for planning strategy. He even has a few photographs hanging on the wall. A few of which… You think you’re in a few of these. _ Who are you? _

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I know you must be in a lot of pain.” He starts to set out your clothes. “How about I help you get dressed?” You nod and let him, at the very least, put undergarments on you. He tries to put your pants on you too, but you wince in pain. 

“This is enough… Thanks.”

“It’s not a problem, my dear.” _ My dear? _ Wait, did he call you his matesprit before? Is this guy in one of your quadrants? You really should remember him… Why don’t you? He picks you up and lies you down on the platform. “How about I just stay here and keep you company?” 

“That... wwould be nice.” He smiles at you, sitting next to you, as if to watch over you. “I’m sorry about this.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, I promise.” His hand gently strokes your cheek as he hushes you. 

“I mean… I don’t remember you.” He looks so crestfallen. “I wwant to, but… it’s been so long.” 

“Eridan, you have to be kidding.” He’s in denial. “Come on, I know you remember me! We’ve known each other for nearly our entire lives!” You shake your head. “Alright, I’ll try to do this as simply as I can: My name is Karkat Vantas. We’ve been in cahoots for many, many sweeps and, before that fucking shitty excuse of an Empress took power, you were my matesprit.”

“Matesprit?” You shake your head. “That can’t be right, I knoww I don’t havve one a those.” 

“Oh?” He quirks a brow at you. “And what makes you think that?”

“Wwell, the Empress—”

“Has been _ panscrubbing _ you since you’ve been in her custody.” He spits, his temper still hot. He looks over to you, his angered expression steadily melting away. “Look, a lot has changed since she put you in the helm.” He explains, lying down. “I can catch you up another time, you look pretty spent.”

“I’m fine.” You try to sit up. You can’t. He rests a hand on your chest. 

“Eridan, it’s okay. Just relax. You need this time to recover. We need you.” He cups your face in his hands. “_ I _need you.” 

You don’t get a chance to question what that meant. Instead, he presses a kiss onto you. Gentle, but charged. It’s calming, but you still only feel anguished for causing him grief. He thought you were _ dead _. He held out for you. His hands slowly slide along your jawline to the back of your head. He shifts to straddle you. You wish you could reciprocate. You wish you weren’t so useless right now. You can’t help but tear up and he’s quick to notice. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, pulling his hands away. “I can go if you need time to be alone.” 

“It’s not that,” you choke. “I just… I don’t knoww wwhat to do.” He responds with a raised brow. “I feel like a wwaste a your time.” You turn away, letting the weight of your head press into the pillow. “You should’vve left me to die.” 

“I couldn’t.” He shakes his head. “You’re just someone I can’t let go of.”

“And noww look at me.” You’re really pissed you can’t exasperate properly. “I’m pretty sure this ain’t the troll you fell in the red wwith.” 

“I don’t give a shit what you’ve been through! Why can’t you understand that?!” He takes both of your hands into his. “I’m here to help you get through it. Better yet, I want to see you give that witch her comeuppance.” 

“I—”

“Eridan.” He sighs. “Look, it’s going to take a long time for all of this to unfold. You’re so weak you can hardly move. We need to help you with your memory, build your strength back up, get you back behind the rifle… it’s not going to be a quick, easy thing. You need to trust we’re going to take care of you. And right now, I need you to relax and get your rest.” You only shake your head at him. “Eridan, you have to forgive yourself. You did nothing wrong, I promise. None of this was your fault.” 

“I don’t… I don’t wwant to sleep.” 

“You _ have to _.” 

“I don’t think I can.” You try to hold your head on your hands. You need to quit trying, you are so fucking spent. “Too much goin’ on.” 

“You need. To _ relax _.” He slips your glasses off, setting them on a nearby table. “How about I help you?”

“I guess you could try…”

“Do you trust me?”

“... I do.” He rests his forehead against yours. 

“Let me know if you want me to stop, okay?” His eyes… those brilliant crimson eyes… You can’t help but feel so vulnerable underneath him. 

… Not that you mind it. 

“... Okay.” 

With that, he returns to the kiss. He feels so warm pressed against you, it almost burns. No, that’s just the tendril remnants burning. His breath on your gills makes you shiver, an audible gasp leaving your lips. His hands and mouth slowly travel down your neck… Your torso… your hips. He carefully lifts your legs to spread them, his eyes gazing over you, somewhere between adoration and worry. You don’t look_ that _bad, do you? He settles between your legs, kissing up your thighs until he reaches the crotch of your undergarments, a warm breath pressing through the fabric. Even with these on, the whiskers of his beard itch you like steel wool and his breath is so warm against your nook, it might as well be a tea kettle’s steam in your shorts. His calloused hands smooth up your legs, his thumbs dipping into the waistband, but your soft whimpers cause him to let go. He hushes you, rests his head on your hip. 

“Are you still doing okay?”

“It hurts.” 

“I’m sorry… Would you like me to stop?” 

“...No. I trust you.”

He looks so concerned for you, but he lets his hands drift to the front of your garments. His palm gently massages your nook. It’s still very warm, but the pressure almost makes it feel therapeutic. You guess this isn’t all that bad. You sigh, your head growing heavy, but light at the same time? You can feel the warmth of him in your chest, your breath burning. You don’t remember what this feeling is or if it’s a good thing, but you’re starting to enjoy it. So much, that your bulge is unsheathing, poking out of the opening of your shorts. Karkat looks up at you. 

“May I…?” His free hand resting by the base, his mouth close to the tip. 

“Yes.” You nod, closing your eyes. “I trust you, Kar.” 

He takes your length into his mouth, whatever he cannot fit receiving attention from his hand. His tongue presses against the length as his head bobs. You groan, quickly becoming dizzy from the feeling. You try to look down at him, but you’re quickly becoming overwhelmed by this sensation as he starts to move faster, sucking your bulge. You don’t want to go to sleep, you want to stay awake. You want to stay in this moment with him. You want to remember everything, but as he continues to pleasure you, you’re losing focus on everything other than the feeling of him on you. Jolts of pleasure surge up your back, your breath hitches in your throat, you are overcome with the intense impression he is leaving on you. He pulls off of you, cleaning up the mess and ushering your bulge to sheathe. You catch your breath, your body and head growing heavy. A blanket gets pulled over you and he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Get your rest. I’ll be back to check on you later.” 

“No!” You hear him stop. “Please... Can you stay?”

You only hear footsteps. The blankets shuffle as Karkat slips next to you. 

“Of course, Eridan.” He gently pulls you into his arms, his head resting on yours. “Now please: go the fuck to sleep.”

You dare not make another protest. **♒︎**


End file.
